


Adrift

by Lyssandra_Med



Series: One-Shot [31]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Bellamione Cult War, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Mild Angst, One Shot, Short, Team Furbae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 04:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21112916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyssandra_Med/pseuds/Lyssandra_Med
Summary: “Who are you?”A knife, twisting and pulling through her gut.“I know you…”A word said like a sword, cutting, precise, lonely.“At least I…”





	Adrift

**Author's Note:**

> prompt was - "Who are you? Why do you look so familiar"

“Who are you?”

A knife, twisting and pulling through her gut.

“I know you…”

A word said like a sword, cutting, precise, lonely.

“At least…”

\---

There wasn’t much after the accident, not much that she remembered at least, and though there were fleeting emotions attached to the landscape nothing concrete remained for her to use as an anchor. 

No family.

No friends.

Or at least none that she knew of, none that came to claim her on that fateful night.

It wasn’t so much that she was left alone or ignored by the staff at the Hospital. No; she’d been shopped around to Police Stations, Local News channels, half a dozen statewide Amber Alerts.

It just seemed that she had… appeared.

Alone, and adrift, with nothing to position her in this open sea.

Nothing besides a glimpse, a half fractured remembrance-

_ Dark curls, haunting eyes, the pout of lips so soft and yet so full. _

_ A broken voice; haunted and lifeless, telling her to get out, to go, that she never wanted to see her again. _

_ “Leave!” _

How was she supposed to know where to go? Where  _ not _ to go? 

The Government was little help (such was the case where fingerprints and DNA failed to yield results), and though she had the gist of a first name, (Ancient, Old, it began with an ‘H’,) that wasn’t enough to place her amidst the hundreds of lives of those known to be missing.

An Enigma.

\---

“... I think I do?”

Cold hands on a warm day, her heart plunging further and further into chaos.

“I’d like to hope I’d remember someone like you, someone so…”

_ Broken _

“... Beautiful.”

\---

Three years flew by when the entire point was to set up life anew; a new name (Ms. Doe to most she met), a new place (outside of where she’d been found, in the hopes that someone would look), a new life.

She liked books, she learned that quickly enough.

And quiet nooks, the aroma of fresh coffee, soft sounds playing on the radio.

She liked cats, orange tabbies in particular, and picked one up the first opportunity that she could. It was an abomination of a beast (all smooshed face and angry disposition), but she loved it all the same.

Filled her life, filled her minutes, those moments stuck waiting in between decisions as the haunting feeling of having _been_ _here_ before, having _done this _before, assailed her senses and her broken memories.

A visage left in the mirror of darkness and stormy voices, the phantom that glared over her shoulder on nights when fragmented realities crashed down on her broken mind.

Checkups were a necessity, both to determine if she could remember anything else and to ensure she wasn’t faking each and every symptom; the same people who professed to want to save her looking for an excuse to cut her away from their help.

It boiled her blood, to be looked down on like a fraud, like she was someone committing a sin to hide a past she couldn’t remember.

\---

“I'm sorry, it must be déjà vu, I’m usually not this, um-”

“No, no it’s fine Hermione, it’s just…”

“How do you… How do you know my name?”

\---

A job was in order (well after she felt secure enough to not embarrass herself at least), and the coffee shop down the street was hiring, the first place that she looked.

Serendipity; too good a chance to pass up. Minimum wage, easy, no one to bother her (as much as they could in customer service.)

A cup; poised on the edge of the countertop, bearing the name Bella-

“Excuse me? Do I know you?”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Like Bellamione? https://discord.gg/pcfMU4F come on in and join the server!


End file.
